


Electrical Conductor

by reidbyers



Series: Ralvez Week. [5]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reidbyers/pseuds/reidbyers
Summary: The human body is capable of being a conductor, allowing a electrical current to run through it if introduced and that comforted Spencer. It shouldn’t have, all that pain and suffering was not something to be craved and yet he felt drawn.





	Electrical Conductor

**Author's Note:**

> Today’s prompt is “Not So Happy Ending” and I decided to do something different. I’m not a poet by any means but I enjoy a challenge, I hope you all enjoy this piece as it came from a very personal place.

Mental illness were the spirits lifting his skeletons in the closet up to play, bones rattling as the corpses of the people he didn’t know how to save or how to love danced like marionettes through the lonely winter nights. Sometimes, Spencer thought if he listened hard enough he would hear the sounds of brittle bones tapping against the floor as his head tried to put life into all the people he failed.

Once, when he was a child Spencer put his finger into a socket to see if his body was really an conductor, not the kind where you would raise your hand and the heavens would start to sing but instead the type where the world depended on your ability to inhabit and bottle up all that pain. It turned out he was, his mother pulled him away before he could get a worse shock and Spencer decided then not to tell her sometimes he wanted to die. A weird thing for a six year old to think about but Spencer had already learnt too early on that the world was not kind and he would much rather be doing something useful. Like being a home for electricity, apparently.

It is a strange thing, being both the message behind the metaphor and the metaphor yourself. You become entangled in jargon and idioms that once did not belong to you and instead of feeling like a person you feel like a badly written letter, as if the possibility of some god out there existed and he had done some typos here and there which lead to Spencer’s brain being filled with nothing but the urge to rid himself of this sadness.

When you get broken up with, there are usually two possibilities of things that can take place. You can either dissolve into a state of pity and sorrow, wishing back the days you had with your lover until the pain begins to numb itself or you are the thankful type and you go out with the relief that you have your life together. When you’re mentally ill, nothing is ever really clean cut, rather a messy muddy mixture of right and wrong, good and bad, you find yourself doing whatever your brain tells you in the hope you will finally be allowed some peace.

Mental illness was the one who killed both his curiosity and the cat, one could not exist without the other without creating some kind of paradox so both had to die. Much like how if there is no cat, the bag does not need to exist as the saying becomes meaningless. It becomes just a bag, you don’t care about the lonely when you can not use their life to put meaning into yours. He became just an empty bag, a place where one used to live but did no longer.

Spencer, Luke, and Spencer’s depression sat on the couch together and tried to work things out but depression kept butting in, feeling offended when Luke spoke about how it was difficult to live in a home with someone you love and watch them suffer without being able to do anything. Depression wasn’t about to allow themselves to get kicked out of their home, argued that they had lived here their whole life and they weren’t about to leave because Spencer had a pretty boyfriend now who he wanted all to himself. Depression was jealous, wanted Spencer all to themselves and would only share him with the people they deemed good enough such as Anxiety, PTSD, the will to be dead.

Mental illness is that feeling of listening to the rain against your window on a dark, lonely night. And then, it all stops. The clouds are done crying now and instead you are filled with the reminded of how peaceful everything had been, the only reminder that the rain had ever poured in the first place were the droplets dripping down the glass; untouchable, simply there to serve as the reminder that it once been, that was all.

The lights had been knocked out, no matter how many times Spencer flipped the switch he still believed he could trigger it all to come on again which could have been a sickly metaphor for how many times he tried to get Luke to stay but failed. There he went again, morphing from a man into the scorned words of a sad poet, desperate to put some use to all that sadness because what else was the point? Was was the point living as a sad man who didn’t nothing with his sadness, did nothing at all really.

He sighed, comforted by the knowledge that he could become a conductor again at any time.


End file.
